


Patchwork Heart

by NightshadeArabs



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Injuries, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightshadeArabs/pseuds/NightshadeArabs
Summary: In progress: reader insert, reader is a mutant, massive work in progress.It seemed like I was always getting hurt, but that probably had something to do with the way I handled things. Which was by throwing myself at them repeatedly until whatever problems I had were solved. Was it healthy, no. Was it smart, also no. Was it effective, most of the time. Which was good enough for me.





	Patchwork Heart

I lifted my fingers and brushed them across bruised, split lips. Wincing, I spat a combination of blood, bile and saliva on the ground next to me.  
My ribs hurt from where I had slammed into the wall. I leveled my eyes on the creature in front of me, it was steadying itself, getting ready for another run.  
The cuts and scrapes on my arms oozed fresh blood, and I knew I had opened at least one old wound on my leg. There was going to be no saving these clothes. Pity.  
I shook myself and eyed my gun, where it lay on the floor mere feet from me. Where I had dropped it as I moved to get out of the way of the first charge.  
The creature yet out a low snarl, the hairs prickled all over my body as the noise washed over me. I was not going to die in a basement in Jersey.  
I faked a move to my left, the creature lunged tried to head me off, I switched my efforts fully into my roll to the right, grabbing my gun as I rolled past it and loosed two rounds directly into the creatures chest.  
It skidded to the side as it lost control of its body and crumpled to the ground, now silent. The only noises left in the room were the distant city, a drip from old pipes and my slightly labored breathing.  
I was sure I had at least one cracked rib and would need new stitches in my deeper cuts. Since there was no way I was explaining any of this to civilians, a hospital was completely out of the question.  
Rolling my eyes and trying to steady my breathing I eased my way back up the stairs and out into the night. There were a few places I could go that weren’t far from me, that I could get patched up without raising undue suspicion with the locals.  
X-Mansion was probably the closest, followed by the Avengers compound. It was just a question of who I felt like having tell me I was irresponsible going out and getting hurt like this, not taking back-up, whatever they felt like guilting me with at the time.  
It would be much easier to find someone at one of those locations than to try to track down any of the individuals that would help me no matter what. They were scattered everywhere. Most of them were terrible about checking their messages though and my phone had gotten destroyed in the fight right before this one. I hadn’t had the chance to grab a new one before throwing myself into this hunt. Taking missions back to back tended to screw me over. Did that mean I would stop, uh, no.  
An ounce of prevention might be better than a pound of cure, but that requires a forethought that I am not always known for using, if I am being entirely honest.  
I delicately hauled myself into my car and drove myself to X-Mansion, I was certain I could make the drive, though I kept stopping to ensure that my bandages hadn’t shifted too much. I didn’t think it would go over well with my friends if I bled to death in my car instead of just going to an actual hospital, questions be damned. Why I couldn’t just have one of those self-healing mutations was beyond me, but we don’t get to choose our genetics I guessed.  
I was lightheaded by the time my car purred its way through the gates and I just parked in front of the doors instead of trying to make it into the garage. I half-slid, half-fell out the driver side as the front door of the mansion burst open, Charles must have heard me coming. I gave him a weak smile, and promptly passed out.  
Why does the ache have to be the first thing to return? It hurt to breathe, hell, it hurt to just exist. I hissed as I regained consciousness and flopped my arm over my eyes as protection against the light that turned on in reaction to my waking up.  
‘You gave us quite a scare’  
Yeah, I know, sorry.  
‘Don’t tell me you’re sorry for something you’d do again in a heartbeat’  
That’s fair, but I still am.  
“I know, but I told you that you were always welcome here and that offer still stands” Charles switched to talking aloud as soon as he knew I was lucid enough for conversation.  
I gave him a tired smile. “I figured it was better than going to a hospital.”  
“Wouldn’t want to scare the locals,” he mused, “What did you try to tell me when you got here?”  
“I, uh, I don’t remember” I admitted  
“Ah, I figured as much, it’s just that you mumbled something about upholstery when we picked you up to bring you inside.” His smile was gentle and there was a touch of laughter dancing behind his eyes  
I thought hard for a minute, trying to get into the headspace of bleeding out me. Oh, that would be it.  
“The car” I said simply. “How much blood did I lose in the car?”  
“Quite a bit, and that does make sense, but Logan likely cleaned it up for you when he moved it into the garage.”  
“I will have to thank him” I started to move, intending to make my escape.  
“Later” Charles replied as Hank reached out a hand to hold me down.  
I hadn’t even noticed him there, his quiet but sure presence so unobtrusive that I paid it no mind. He wouldn’t be offended though, that is how he preferred his bedside manner to be. There when he was needed, then fade into the shadows if not.  
I accepted the hand on my shoulder for what it was and didn’t fight them. At full health I easily could have, but I was tired, and I found it best to respect both men’s wishes when it came to medical recovery. They had glued me back together several times before and were quite well versed in making sure I healed as well as possible.  
I let my head drop back into the pillow as my eyes felt heavy again. I looked to Charles to see if he was done talking for now and he just nodded and moved away from the bed as Hank fiddled with the equipment next to me and dimmed the lights back down to sleeping levels. Not that it would have stopped me at that point. I had clearly been in worse shape than I had thought.  
The next time I woke, less things hurt, and I was up and gently removing all the needles, tape and wires by the time Hank came in to help.  
“You know I hate it when you do this” Hank mused.  
“And you know I hate being a pin cushion, so we’re even” I quipped back smiling at him.  
He just shook his head.  
“So, what’s the damage doc?” I asked, turning to face him.  
“You have two broken ribs, and just about every area of your body was either cut, scraped or bruised” Hank replied, “You’d lost a lot of blood by the time you got here, in spite of your bandages”  
“Oops”  
“Oops doesn’t really cover it, but you already know that. You need to stop showing up half dead.”  
“It’s better than showing up entirely dead, right?”  
That got me a glare. I just smiled sweetly at him. It’s not that I didn’t take him seriously, or even that I didn’t take my life seriously. It’s just that when things needed to be done, I would do them. Already injured and bleeding or not. That’s who I am, that is who I have always been, even before I knew I was a mutant. I am just more effective at it now. Which also means I get into even worse scrapes now, which is kind of surprising as it is. Who knows, maybe all those ass kickings built character?  
While Hank was putting away the gear that had just been strapped to me, I took the chance to look myself over. The gash in my leg that I had stitched myself, then popped the stitches was neatly sutured with the addition of some of Hank’s high tech tape holding things in place, my already healing scrapes and cuts had various levels of ointment and plasters covering them and I had a couple of stitched cuts on my face. One where I had split my lip quite spectacularly, if I do say so myself and one near my eyebrow.  
“I look like a quilt.” I commented to no one in particular, causing Hank to snort as he turned back to face me again.  
“Charles wanted to see you as soon as you were up, you know where to find him”  
“I do, thanks again,” I paused, “for everything, really”  
Hank just smiled at me again while shaking his head.  
“I will always patch you up, you know that.” He walked away, headed back to whatever research he was probably doing before I interrupted.  
I probably owed him lots of home-made food at this point.

I was making my way up the stairs to see whatever wisdom Charles wished to try to impress upon me this time when I nearly ran into Logan on the landing.  
“Hey kid, good to see you up and around already” His smirk told me he wasn’t surprised.  
“You know me, I gotta lose at least 75% of my blood to keep me down”  
He snorted and shook his head. “Car is clean and parked in your spot”  
“I don’t have a spot”  
“Yes, you do”  
“Ugh, not you too”  
He tossed the keys in a gentle arch towards me and I snapped them out of the air and dropped them in my pocket.  
“Anything else” he prodded, his eyes sparkling. I guessed he wanted his full pound of flesh.  
I tried to look innocent. It probably would have worked, on just about anyone who didn’t know me, and Logan knew me. Shit.  
“Thanks” I maintained eye contact long enough for him to know I meant it.  
“Stop bleeding in your damn car”  
“It’s not like I did it on purpose” I whined. I may have also pouted a little bit. What I just got out of the hospital. Which may or may not have been because I was just bleeding in the car. But who was keeping track, really?  
“I know kid, I just worry” He said soothingly. He always was a sucker for my pouting. I tried not to abuse that power, most of the time. Unless there is chocolate involved, then it’s every mutant for themselves.  
“Yea, you and just about every other sane person here” I muttered, mostly to myself. It earned me another smirk as Logan offered me his arm to escort me the rest of the way up the stairs.  
“I am capable of walking myself, you know” I grumped, even as I threaded my arm through his.  
He just patted my hand where it rested on his forearm.  
I stuck my tongue out at him.  
I am a beacon of maturity.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not finished. This is not polished. It is a work in progress and stuff may change.


End file.
